


With a little help from my friends

by AdAstra (smut_fairy)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 09:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14541510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smut_fairy/pseuds/AdAstra
Summary: If there is one thing Raven Reyes isn't, it's an idiot.She also isn't blind, oblivious, or socially stunted enough to have missed the flashing neon signs that used to hover above Bellamy and Clarke's heads, alerting everyone in their immediate surroundings that they had deep goddamn feelings for each other. It's entirely possible Raven has known that Bellamy was in love with Clarke and Clarke was in love with Bellamy before the two morons in question knew.-----aka, a post season 4 finale AU from Raven's perspective (with a smidge of Braven, a dash of Princess Mechanic, and a Bravenlarke finale. oh, and a whole heap of smutty feels)





	With a little help from my friends

**Author's Note:**

> Since Ao3's tagging system is somewhat limited, I want to take a moment to explain what you're going to get with this fic:
> 
> Chapter 1 is an angsty but hot Braven hookup. Chapter 2 is going to be a much more lighthearted Princess Mechanic hookup with both Raven and Clarke getting some for the first time in a long time. Chapter 3 is going to be a Bravenlarke hookup with (hopefully satisfying) closure for the Bellarke shippers out there.
> 
> It must be noted that I ship Bellarke pretty hard. I love Raven and I think she is smoking hot in any of these pairings/trios but romantic Bellarke is my endgame.
> 
> If this is not what you're here for, no hard feelings! 
> 
> If this is what you're here for, buckle up because I wasn't kidding about the angst.

If there is one thing Raven Reyes isn't, it's an idiot.

She also isn't blind, oblivious, or socially stunted enough to have missed the flashing neon signs that used to hover above Bellamy and Clarke's heads, alerting everyone in their immediate surroundings that they had deep goddamn feelings for each other. It's entirely possible Raven has known that Bellamy was in love with Clarke and Clarke was in love with Bellamy before the two morons in question knew.

It's why Bellamy was the ideal forget-Finn fuck, what feels like a lifetime ago. He'd been hot and willing and not looking for a repeat show, but he also meant something to Clarke. Back then, Raven couldn't tell what exactly. Their fledgling feelings for each other were barely more than grudging respect back then, but the sexual tension was thick enough between them Raven felt smug to have gotten there first.

Smug is the farthest thing from what she's feeling when Bellamy shows up at her door the first night on the ring, looking as bereft as she's ever seen him.

Neither Blake has ever had a good poker face, and right now Raven sees him staring down a hand of guilt and self-loathing and grief, and an Ace: the weight of responsibility, the weight of all seven lives resting on his shoulders. That one card is enough to keep him from throwing the game completely.

But Raven knows him well enough to see how badly he wishes he could fold, so she pushes her door open further and cocks her head. An unmistakable invitation.

He doesn't hesitate, just brushes past her without a word and begins to shed his coat. Sliding the door closed behind him, she turns to lean up against it, folding her arms loosely over her chest. Watches as he tosses his jacket over the back of a chair, sinks down on the bed and buries his face in his hands.

"I'm starting to think we should have gotten a still set up before we worried about mundane things like algae farms and running water. I could really use a drink," she says dryly. Bellamy huffs and drops his hands to dangle between his spread knees.

"Probably for the best."

"How do you figure?"

He looks away, jaw muscle jumping, nostrils flaring. When he turns back to her his eyes are glassy.

"I don't deserve to drown my sorrows. I left her behind. I have to live with that."

Raven shakes her head.

"It's not your fault."

"I made the call."

"I made it right beside you. Her death is just as much on my hands as yours." She stumbles over the d-word, at the sharp breath he takes in through his nose when he hears it.

"I was supposed to keep her alive. That's what I do. It's what I always done. I _promised_."

Raven sighs and steps forward, reaching out to rest her hands awkwardly on his shoulders. She never knows what to do or say when someone else is upset, never feels like it's enough.

"Don't beat yourself up," she says finally. "She wouldn't want you to feel guilty."

Bellamy's eyes brim with emotion, his face a gaping wound. Slowly enough that she could pull away, he lifts his hands to her hips. One by one, his fingers latch on as if he's spacewalking and she's his tether.

"So make me feel something else," he pleads, voice low and rumbling as the mechanisms in the walls.

"This isn't gonna help," she warns.

It's about the same amount of fight he'd put up back then. The kind that says _I'll give you what you ask for even if I know you shouldn't ask_.

His fingers slip beneath the hem of her top. She wonders if his fingerprints will turn to bruises.

"I know."

Raven nods once and slides her hands from his shoulders to his hair.

It's enough for Bellamy to lean up and kiss her, a release of desperation and regret. It tastes like need, like words he never said, and Raven will give him whatever he needs from her but she can't stomach his sorrow for long. And anyway, that's not why he's here. So she rakes her teeth along his lip until he makes a helpless noise, twists her fingers tight in his hair until he groans.

His hands yank her top up and off, not that Raven gives him much room to. She presses so close to his chest that there's barely any space between them, his head tipped almost all the way back to keep his lips on hers, his mind flooded with sensory overload so he doesn't start thinking again.

Raven knows that she could be offended. The girl Bellamy loves is dead, the only other option he could turn to is someone he doesn't trust as far as he can throw her, and so Raven ends up playing the consolation prize to Clarke Griffin once again.

But it doesn't feel that way. Bellamy wouldn't have turned to her if he didn't trust her. And Raven is mourning Clarke too, in her own way. They're leaning on each other in a reckless way, albeit one that might bring some new flavor of regret along with it.

So for once, Raven turns her genius brain off.

Bellamy buries his face in her cleavage, which is right at his eye level. His mouth works a mark into the soft skin of her breast, One large, rough hand slides up her bare back, any trace of uncertainty evaporating as he deftly pops the clasp on her bra.

The moment the garment hits the floor his lips are tracing maddening circles around her areola, his tongue flickering out at the last moment to give some friction to her nipple. Raven gasps, something that might have made a certain version of Bellamy smirk around her, once. This Bellamy is all focused attention, blowing cool air where his mouth had just been until her nipples peak and her skin pebbles.

"You setting up camp?" She grunts when he turns his attention to her other breast, plucking and rolling her other nipple between his fingers.

"It takes longer to get you ready than it does me."

"I'm ready."

"Yeah?" He cups her through her pants and she bucks into his hand, her inseam giving her clit a tantalizing amount of pressure.

"Fuck," she gasps, fisting the collar of his shirt in her hand and tugging. "Get this off."

Bellamy pulls back and obliges her, ripping it over his head and tossing it in the general direction of his jacket. The instant he's free of it, she pulls him back against her, the air between them growing charged and frantic with the escalating pace and the warm press of skin on skin.

He's the one to undo the button on her pants but Raven is the one to slide them down her own legs, ripping her knee brace off with them. His hands follow the path of bared skin, squeezing her ass, the backs of her thighs, his fingers so long they wrap almost around to her throbbing center.

Raven wasn't lying. She's wetter than she would have believed possible. She's been pretty hard up since before ALIE. It can't be helped.

Bellamy finds this out when he swipes two fingers through her slit, gathering enough of her arousal to make him groan.

"Shit."

"I told you."

Without ceremony, Raven drops down onto him, pressing her core against the ever-hardening bulge in his pants. He looses a shuddering breath at the motion, his hips rolling against hers as if of their own accord. Raven's body sings. She throws her head back and gasps, circling her own hips in a slow grind on his lap.

Bellamy's breaths come in harsh bursts, panting in time with the twist of their bodies together. Even with the layer of fabric between them, his zipper biting into the tender skin of Raven's thigh, she feels the tell-tale signs of a storm gathering. Her pulse pounds in her ears, pulses of electricity amping up at her navel. She chases the feeling, grinding down harder, faster, Bellamy's hands supporting her when her leg begins to cramp and her rhythm falters.

He bites down on the sensitive spot at the juncture of her neck and shoulder and the storm bursts. It feels the way Raven imagines a power surge would feel, a flood of chemicals in her brain, a chain reaction of her synapses. Bellamy keeps his hips gyrating through the whole thing, egging her on.

The fact that he's still hard when her vision starts to clear is the only thing that keeps Raven from succumbing to lethargy. She jerks against him and he swears, lifting her enough to get his hand between them and undo his fly. Then he's shoving her panties to one side and she's sinking down on every hot, thick inch of him.

He's bigger than she remembers, the curve of him hitting all the right buttons within her. Raven digs her blunt fingernails into his shoulder blades, grounding both of them. Bellamy wraps her ponytail around his fist, using it to leverage her head back until he can affix his mouth to the exposed column of her throat.

The dual sensation of his cock thrusting inside of her and his tongue hot and wet on her neck gets Raven revving up again in no time. There's nothing sweet about it. It's raw need that drives him hard up into her, that has her hips canting down against his to the obscene tune of flesh against flesh.

Bellamy gets his thumb on her clit, a steady pressure that sends Raven up like a rocket.

"I'm not gonna last much longer like this," he manages as her walls clench around him.

Raven bites the shell of his ear as she snarls, "You need me to make it last longer?"

Hand firm on her neck, he tugs her lips back to his.

"Don't you fucking dare."

Her grip on his shoulders, anchored only shallowly by her fingernails, begins to slip. The scrape of her nails down his skin makes his rhythm stutter. A wrecked sound gets muffled by her lips. When he comes it tastes like rocket fuel, toxic and explosive. It ignites Raven's second orgasm of the night, a sudden and potent burst of feeling that blasts apart everything else in her mind.

She slumps boneless to the side, off of Bellamy and onto the thin mattress. He falls back too, catching himself on one elbow as his chest heaves. The wild, broken look is back on his face. Raven wonders if it was worth it.

She thinks about offering to let him stay but he's tucking himself away and pulling his shirt back on before the words can make it past her lips.

"I'll get Monty started on alcohol tomorrow. I bet fermented algae can really fuck you up."

Bellamy doesn't crack a smile. Doesn't even look like he hears her.

He just adjusts the collar of his coat and starts for the door.

"Did it help?"

He pauses in the doorway, turning his head only enough for her to make his profile out in the dark of the hallway.

"No," he says eventually. "But thanks anyway."

When he's gone, Raven shifts further onto her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

She can't fill her friend's shoes. She'll never be able to be for them what Clarke would have been if she were here.

But she can do her best to hold Bellamy together, and let him carry the weight of the rest of it. For Clarke's sake, for their own survival, Raven will do that much.

Still, as she drifts off to sleep she finds herself hoping desperately that they'll wake up tomorrow morning to find Clarke there among them. That she'll dock on the Ring with a rocket of her own. That they'll catch a radio signal from the bunker telling them she made it back in time.

If anyone could survive the nuclear apocalypse, Raven's money would be on Clarke Griffin.

 


End file.
